I love my life

People love houses with doors that stick. They know exactly which stair creaks and which window jams in July, and they'd still take that house over a showroom.

Lives work along the same lines. Loving one doesn't require it to be going well. It's compatible with a bad month, a job you're leaving, a room you'd rather not spend another winter in.

What it means is closer to ownership than to satisfaction: this one is mine, including the parts currently under repair. The alternative is postponing the affection until conditions improve, and conditions have a way of improving into a fresh set of conditions, indefinitely.